


TLC

by Talvi (inn_havi)



Series: Stories of Thedas [13]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:47:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28726077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inn_havi/pseuds/Talvi
Summary: Stories of Thedas writing challenge day 13/31
Series: Stories of Thedas [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2086773
Kudos: 3





	TLC

**Author's Note:**

> Stories of Thedas writing challenge day 13/31

There was a deep bubbling from the pot of stew that threatened to boil over at any moment-leaking all of its contents of vegetables and meat that was sold as rabbit but may actually be anything but. With a curse under his breath, the mage rolled up his sleeves to his elbows and removed the lid to the taunting cast-iron pot in order to stir everything together in an attempt to calm the evil before him.

The smell from the concoction was very savory, and Anders was fearful that it would be too heavy on a weak stomach. But it was nutritious and vital for his love to regain his strength. Or, he hoped it would be so. He gathered the carrots and potatoes with the meat into a ladle and placed it into the bowl, nearly missing his thumb that grasped at the rim as he poured some of the broth to join the other contents. The bottom of the bowl made a clanking sound as it hit the tray it was to sit on while the mage searched for his salves and other medicinal drinks to join in.

With a bit of a huff, he picked up the tray and backed out of the kitchen before making his way to climb up the stairs. He was cautious enough to ensure that he didn’t trip over a step, and didn’t stop the motion of his feet until he reached the bedroom door. Pressing the side of the tray into his hip with his wrist, he quietly rapped on the wooden door to see if the other household member on the other side of it was conscious at all. There was a grunt, but that was about it.

“Love?” Anders pushed open the door as quietly as he spoke, the carefulness in his movements quickly being replaced with that of urgency at the sight of his dear Hawke trying to get out of bed while holding his bandaged side and looking terrible pale. “No no no,” Anders set down the tray on the end table and moved to gently put Hawke back under the covers. “What’re you doing? You shouldn’t be moving around like that.”

Hawke just gave a bit of a groan in response, the young man shifting uncomfortably in the bed. With a hand on his forehead, Anders could quickly tell that he was running a fever and probably wasn’t even fully aware of his own actions. “Oh, love…” He murmured in a hushed voice, pulling the pillow against the headboard and pulling the man up to sit. “Hi…” He smiled a kind of smile that was supposed to be that of pure comfort and make his love feel at least a little bit better. “I brought you some soup. Would you eat some for me?”

Hawke didn’t say much, but a small nod was enough for Anders to bring the tray over, separating the salve and medicinal drink from it to place it gently in Hawke’s lap. “Can you eat by yourself or do you want help?” Normally, if Hawke was only a little bit sick, he would tease Anders tha, no, he couldn’t eat by himself and just needed to be cared for. But here he simply took the spoon and slowly ate by himself while Anders stood and went to crack open a window to get the air circulating some.

The weather hadn’t cleared up much since Hawke had first come to him ill. Anders was working at the clinic on the day that Hawke, Fenris, Varric, and Isabela went to do something for someone in Lowtown. Anders didn’t ask much about the details, and while he didn’t necessarily not care… He didn’t. He had been busy with client upon client, helping the ill and those on death’s door for hours with barely a break. So by the time he was getting ready to close up shop for the evening, he wasn’t expecting Hawke to be dragged into the Clinc by the others.

“We can wait,” an injured Varric had stated. “Take care of Hawke first.”

And so he did. He had been hoping that the blood on him was primarily someone else’s but, while that was mostly the case, there was too much of his own soaked into his robes and caking into his hair. What happened exactly?

“We were ambushed,” Isabela explained, following the statement with some sort of profanity as she sat down while holding a bruised side.

“And these were the weapons.” Fenris gave the mage an arrow without much eye contact. “I sensed traces of poison lacing the head.”

Then why didn’t you do anything? Is what Anders wanted to say, but that wasn’t the time to start an argument.

He had spent as much time as he could working the bits of poison out of the Champion’s system and identifying all open wounds to apply a salve to and bandage up tightly. He had begun running a fever and needed proper rest.

And so he was brought back to his estate and, in doing better, was proving to be in more need of a rest than initially assumed. This wasn’t a surprise, but it didn’t mean that it was any less worrying to the young mage who was caring for him. So upon finishing his stew, he removed the bowl and gave him a drink of the medicinal liquid-albeit, with a bit of pressuring-before working to remove the bandages in order to clean and put salve on the wounds. There was a flinch and a very slight groan, and Anders apologized quietly before rewrapping the bandages and laying him back down.

With a seat being taken on the side of the bed, Anders gently stroked the hair of the Champion until he finally managed to go back to sleep. Just a little while longer, and he would be able to go and rock the world a bit more as his usual self.


End file.
